25 7
by Sherry Furude
Summary: A collection of oneshot-type GinSherry fanfiction fulfilling Tumblr user smolwars' 25 sentence prompts. Each chapter contains its own Content Warnings.
1. I think I owe you an apology

**DISCLAIMER:** The entire _Detective Conan_ series belong to **Gosho Aoyama**. This is a **non-profit fanwork**.

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Update: **Apparently, slashes are not allowed in titles**. The title will appear as '25 7,' although originally it is **'25/7.'**

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 **CW** for chapter 1: mentions of stalking; implicit mention of sex.

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 **Chapter 1: 'I think I owe you an apology.' (30/6/17)**

Sherry walked out of her laboratory earlier than usual that day. The concrete under her shoes gleamed with the dim, warm light the dying sun still gave off from between the run-down buildings around her. Keeping her eyes down, it seemed as if she were walking down a luxurious, tangerine-colored carpet – maybe on her way to receive a prestigious award.

Only that Sherry wasn't the type to daydream, especially not of nonsense.

'I think I owe you an apology.'

Gin's loud voice prompted Sherry to raise her gaze from the concrete. The man leaned against his Porsche, parked directly before the front door of the building she had just left. The blackness of his coat blended with the lustrous black of the car paint, both appearing reddish under the light of the dying sun. At first sight, Sherry couldn't help believing for a brief moment that he was covered in blood.

'I'm sorry for what I said this morning,' he continued. 'And last night.'

Sherry stood up straight, and by doing so she realized she had stopped walking.

'I didn't consider your point of view,' he admitted. 'I was selfish. I'm sorry. I really am.'

Sherry didn't answer. In the quiet street, apart from Gin's voice when he talked, the only sounds to be heard were the costant hum of the distant traffic and the occasional high-pitched cry of a bird dashing across the darkening sky.

'You are what matters to me most in this world,' he declared, taking a resolute step away from the car. Sherry studied his expression – his calm façade was starting to break down, apparently in reply and opposition to her unresponsiveness. 'I would never want to harm you. And I know I have. So I wanted you to know that I am sorry, that I wish I had acted differently.'

Sherry remained perfectly still. Gin averted his eyes – on his face, she could read true despair and pain as only someone who had known him for nearly a decade could.

'I'm sorry,' he repeated.

'How long have you been waiting here for me?'

The man looked back at her. Despite the four or five feet of distance between them, Sherry distinguished the gleam of hope in his face. She had seen it enough times to recognize it in any sort of circumstance.

'About an hour,' he answered. 'But I didn't expect you this early.'

Sherry made an amused smile.

'So you intended to wait for me… like a stalker?'

Gin let out a laugh. A short, dry, sincere laugh. Sherry's smile widened. She strolled casually towards him.

'And what were your plans once I came out of the building?' she inquired playfully. 'To lure me into your car?' She rested her hands on his shoulders. The cloth of his coat felt warm against her skin. 'To take me to your apartment and fulfill your most depraved wishes with me there?'

Gin smirked and moved his face closer to hers, until their lips nearly touched.

'Only if you wanted.'

Sherry laughed and kissed him. Gin embraced her waist, pushing her further against him. When the kiss ended, they kept quiet for a moment, only staring into each other's eyes. With every movement they made, no matter how small, their noses brushed.

'I'm sorry for being so selfish, Shiho,' he spoke at last.

Shiho buried her head in his shoulder and smiled. His long, ash-blond hair tickled her cheeks.

'It's okay.'

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 **A/N:** It's been a while! I've been very busy lately, but now I am happy to say I'm finally free to write as much as I want. For the time being, that is!

As the summary briefly explained, this will be, more than a fic, **a collection of oneshot-type writings** (oneshots, drabbles, vignettes) fulfilling the **25 sentence prompts** I saw earlier this year on Tumblr (I have been fighting with Tumblr for who knows how long trying to get a non-dashboard version of the link; if I ever succeed, I'll add it here). I started working on these prompts because I wanted to write but lacked the inspiration to do it from scratch. They were just what I needed. I have been working on them since June 30th (the day this first drabble was written) and I'm enjoying it very much.

As a novelty, **I will be adding the date(s) of composition to the title of each "chapter"** \- something I already did for myself. In this way I intend to bring the writing process closer to you as readers. With the exception of this first "chapter" (and maybe the last one; I am not sure yet), I intend to fulfill all prompts within July 2017. The title, as you may have guessed, is a pun on the expression '24/7' and a reference to both the 25 prompts and the month of July (the seventh one in the Gregorian calendar).

As I also tell in the summary, **I will be publishing irregularly, roughly as I write "chapter"** (and revise it until I consider it's good enough to be published).

With little else to say, I **thank you for reading** and say goodbye until the next chapter. I will be **more than glad to read your reviews.**

Lots of love!


	2. I'll take care of it

**CW:** blood, descriptions of violence.

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 **Chapter 2: 'I'll take care of it.' (6/7/17)**

Gin panted as he dialed the number. Out in the street it had started to rain. He ignored the bloodstains his fingetips were covering the mobile phone with, promising himself he would clean them later. It wouldn't be the first time. Despite all the care he could take, nearly a decade working as an assassin had taught him that dirt and stains couldn't always be avoided.

'Hello?'

Gin contained a sigh of relief when Sherry's voice greeted him from the other end of the line.

'Good morning, Sherry.' Manners first. His breath still hadn't slowed down. 'I'm sorry to disturb you this early. I didn't know who else to call. I'll make it up for you later, but now I need your help.'

Sherry promptly adopted a serious tone. By her voice, he could judge she had been awake for a while. Maybe an hour or two. An early bird. 'What is it?'

'I just came back home from a mission,' he started. 'I was exhausted – I haven't slept a wink in the last twenty hours.' The rain intensified. A tiny portion of his brain mentally checked whether all windows in his apartment were closed. 'This man was following me. I didn't notice. Not until it was too late.' Gin dragged his right foot away from a pool of blood on the floor. The laundry. He had left it hanging. After all those hours drying, now it would get soaked again. If only he had heard the weather forecast in time. 'I had just walked into my apartment when he pulled out the gun. While I dodged the first bullet, he managed to run into the hall and close the door behind us. I pulled out my gun. I shot him in the right shoulder – the man was right-handed,' he clarified. No surprise. He, Gin, was the odd one out, the one out of ten, not the others. 'But he had stamina. He shot again and I couldn't dodge it that time. He hit my left thigh. I fell. I held my gun upwards, thinking that would be the end…'

'But it wasn't.'

Gin couldn't help nodding at Sherry's solemn tone. It hadn't been the end. Not yet.

'It was, for him,' he continued. 'A bullet through the heart. By the time he touched the floor, he was dead.'

Gin's gaze flew to the corpse between him and his front door. Just a CEO they had been blackmailing for the last few months, the kind of man who liked to keep his business secrets from absolutely everyone. Shorter than Gin, nowhere near the two meters, and discreetly clad in grey dress pants and a simple white shirt – both now covered in blood. Little cloth had been spared by the darkening stains.

'My neighbors will be waking up in an hour, maybe two.' If the gunshots hadn't gotten them out of bed already. 'I need to clean this all up, but I can hardly move. I think the bullet has hit a nerve. I don't think I could drive like this.'

'Okay.' Sherry's voice remained calm and solemn. Gin couldn't be more thankful. 'I'm taking my motorbike. I'll be there as soon as I can. Have you tried to stop the bleeding?'

'Not yet.'

'Do it,' she ordered. 'Then phone Vodka and ask him whether he can take you to the medical facilities of the Organization. If he doesn't answer or can't come, phone me again.' By the rustle he could hear, Gin deduced Sherry was getting ready to leave. 'I'll probably be on the bike, so I won't pick it up. If something's wrong, keep phoning until I answer.'

'So what if Vodka doesn't answer or can't give me the lift?'

'What do you think? We'll take your car. It's high time I drove it again, don't you think?' Gin could hear the grin in Sherry's voice. He pictured her lips turned at one corner.

'But what about the mess here?' he questioned. 'We can't leave it like this…'

'I'll take care of it.'

A door closed with a thud at the other end of the line.

'But the corpse…'

'Mamoru.'

Gin stopped. He had heard his birth name a thousand times in Sherry's voice, but never as gravely authoritative. The rain drummed steadily against the windows. He noticed his breath and pulse had finally slowed down.

'I'll take care of it,' she repeated. 'Trust me. Do you trust me?'

Gin grinned and turned his head away from the corpse lying before him. Past the hall, his quiet apartment remained just as he had left it the previous morning – calm, tidy and clean, knowing knothing of dead CEOs or blood-spattered walls. The wound in his leg stung.

'Of course I do.'


	3. You're all I've got

**CW** : hospital setting, discussion of death, mention of sex.

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 **Chapter 3: 'You're all I've got.' (5/7/17)**

Someone rushed down the corridor. Shiho stirred in the white, aseptic bed and turned her back to the door of her room. How rude of that person to run in the corridor. It was someone tall, she judged by the clanking sound of their hard soles against the clean floor. As she buried her face in the pillow, an intense smell of detergent flooded her nose. She didn't like it. But she wanted to sleep, and the footsteps in the corridor only became louder…

The footsteps ceased. No sooner than Shiho had thought she would finally be able to rest, however, the door of her room opened with a quiet creak and someone walked in. Too slowly for a nurse, she thought. Nurses walked resolutely fast. The newcomer's steps were heavy and hesitant, as if fearing to disturb her. Or as if fearing something else.

She turned towards the door right as the newcomer dropped onto the chair beside her bed. A cascade of ash blond hair covered a face she did not need to see so as to recognize – the one so many knew as Gin's, the one she knew by another name.

'Mamoru…'

The man raised his face and the streaks of messy hair moved to the sides. The good old Mamoru. Shiho made a smile that died in a matter of seconds – when the man's green eyes met hers, she noticed they were wet with tears.

'Shiho!' he spoke, standing up so as to move closer to the bed. 'Thank goodness! How are you feeling? I'm sorry I couldn't be here any sooner – they called me about half an hour ago…'

'Calm down, Mamoru,' she ordered politely. 'Right now. Sit down on there, I don't need you on top of me,' she added, pointing to the man's left knee, which he had promptly propped onto the white bed. She grinned. 'Unless you intend to have sex with me in this menthol-stinking hospital bed, which I don't think would be a pleasant experience for either of us.'

Mamoru laughed shyly at her joke and stood up straight. His left hand moved to wipe a lonely tear that had ventured down his cheek.

'I'm sorry,' he repeated. As if remembering her specific orders, he hurried to sit on the chair behind him. Once sitting, he rested his arms on his thighs and leaned towards the woman. 'What happened, Shiho?' he asked with a worried expression. 'They wouldn't tell me when they phoned me. They said the hospital has a strict policy regarding patients' privacy.'

'Of course they do.' Shiho smiled, amused. 'They got themselves into quite a nasty lawsuit five or six years ago. You see, some patient's entire history was leaked…'

'Anyway,' he interrupted her, shaking his head for emphasis, 'what happened to you, Shiho? This morning I took you to work, and, next thing I know, you're in a hospital…'

'I got run over by a motorbike.' Mamoru's eyes opened wide. 'It'd be more accurate to say that the motorbike ran into me.' The man still kept quiet, apparently too shocked to elaborate any sort of verbal reply. She went on, 'I was crossing a street and the biker says he lost control. Luckily for me, he managed to slow down in the last few meters, so the clash wasn't as bad as it could have been.' She glanced at her listener. 'You're too quiet.'

Mamoru sat up straight on the chair. 'It's…' He hesitated for a while before leaning again towards the bed. 'What have the doctors said, Shiho? How… how badly are you hurt, exactly?'

She smiled. Oh, how cute he looked when he worried.

'I'm fine,' she argued with a shrug. 'I didn't break any bones, although my right leg and arm are pretty much covered in bruises and scratches. And there's a cut on my head,' she added, raising the back of her hair with a hand and pointing out to him the exact place, an itchy spot at about the height of her right earlobe. 'They had to shave a bit around the cut, but the luckily it's somewhere easy to cover.' She moved her hand away and her hair returned to its previous position. Mamoru, who had stood up to have a better look, sat back down on the chair. 'How does it look?'

The question apparently caught him with his guard down. After a moment, Mamoru shrugged and averted his eyes. 'It looks okay. They got you stitches.'

'Three, they told me. This,' she remarked, tapping a finger against her forehead, 'is why they've kept me. But the damage is only mild, if anything. I've had a bit of a headache and I felt confused right after the clash, but they scanned me and everything is alright.' Mamoru let out a sigh which Shiho knew was of relief. 'Now, shall we go?'

'Go where?'

Shiho blinked in a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

'Wel… home. Your place, I had thought. Didn't they tell you?'

'Tell me what?'

Shiho couldn't help a puzzled look when all pieces finally fell into place. At the same time that a discreet blush raised to her cheeks, the woman mentally promised herself she would find out who had phoned Mamoru but, for some reason, not carried her clear, explicit message.

'That's… that's the reason they phoned you,' she explained awkwardly. 'I thought you wouldn't mind. But it's okay if you do, of course. You see, they said I could leave but that it would be better if I had someone to keep me company. So I asked them to phone you… to come pick me up.'

For the second time in the short while since he had arrived, Mamoru opened his eyes wide at Shiho's words. She gazed away in embarrassment, wishing for the earth to open up beneath her feet.

Surprisingly, Mamoru started to laugh.

'Of course I'll take you home!' he agreed. The last laugh lingered for a while longer at the corners of his lips. 'Don't you worry about that.'

'I told them to ask you!' she argued, turning her face towards him and gesturing with a hand. 'I didn't take it for granted! If you had said no…'

Mamoru made a sweet smile and lowered his head until it lingered at only inches from hers. 'How could I have?'

'You could have been busy,' she proposed. 'Or too far away.'

Shiho's right hand was lifted from the bedsheets by the gentle touch of Mamoru's fingers. His own hand closed around hers delicately, barely making any pressure.

'I could never be too busy, or too far. Nothing could keep me from coming to you,' he claimed. 'Only death – only my death. Even if it were only to cry before your dead body, don't you doubt I would come to you.'

Shiho kept quiet and stared into his green eyes. How pure and clean they looked.

'I was worried, Shiho,' he confessed with a sad tone. 'I got that phone call telling me you were in a hospital after a traffic accident and that was all I knew. You have no idea what kind of posibilities ran throught my head. I feared I could lose you.' He made a pause. As Shiho could see thanks to the proximity of their faces, his eyes were full of tears again. 'You're all I've got. I can't afford to lose you. I could not stand to lose you. I could never put up with it…'

'You could,' she objected. 'In fact, you can. You can put up with it and much more. You would suffer, but you would go on with your life and keep on fighting, as you always have.'

The man closed his eyes and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. Shiho raised a hand to wipe them – when it touched his skin, Mamoru opened his eyes and smiled.

'I don't want to lose you,' he whispered.

'Neither do I,' she agreed. 'But I know you are strong enough to lose me and live on.'

'But not yet, please. Not so soon.'

Shiho's hand caressed the man's wet cheeks for a while and then dropped back onto the white bedsheets. The strong detergent odor seemed to have vanished, at least in part. The room now smelled mostly of him – cigarettes, shampoo and tears.

'Should we go, then?' she suggested.

Mamoru nodded and stood up. Shiho sat up slowly on the bed and had a last, long glance at him. The tears had stopped falling and his eyes appeared even cleaner than before, like water from some distant mountaintop covered in snow. The ash blond streaks that framed his face reminded her of the sunlight of a warm, lazy summer afternoon.

Shiho dangled her legs across the mattress and her bare feet touched the cold ground.


	4. Who did that to you?

**CW** : symptoms of PTSD, mention of death.

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 **Chapter 4: 'Who did that to you?' (8/7/17)**

Gin's piercing shriek pulled Sherry out from her sleep. In the jet-black darkness, her hand reached from the nearest light switch, the position of which she knew by heart.

What she saw when her eyes adapted to the blinding, white light was a familiar image. Nevertheless, she couldn't help her heart from painfully skipping a beat.

Gin sat on the bed with his back hunched and his left hand pressed against his chest. Had it been only for his extremely swift-paced, harsh pants, a stranger could have guessed he had just run a great distance or carried a heavy weight for a long time. But the abundant tears rolling down his cheeks ruled out such options.

She moved a few inches closer and took care not to touch him. She didn't ask what was wrong because she already knew the answer to that question. It was always the same.

'It's okay,' she whispered. 'You're here. I'm here with you. You have nothing to fear right now.'

The man didn't react. His whole body shivered.

'What's your age?' she asked. 'How old are you right here and right now?'

Gin cleared his throat and took a deep, trembling breath through his gaping mouth.

'Twen-twenty-one.' He cleared his throat a second time. 'I'm twenty-one years old.'

'Good. Where are you right now?'

'I'm… I'm on my bed,' he answered. Word by word, his breath slowed down. 'With you. In my apartment.'

'What's your address?'

The man recited the full address of the apartment. Sherry's attention was fixed on him, observant of any sign of recovery, however subtle – normalizing breath, steadier pulse, increasing control over his voice.

'Good,' she repeated. 'How are you feeling now?'

Gin's lips closed and he took a deep breath through his nose. He kept quiet for a long while, during which Sherry couldn't help noticing that he stopped crying.

'I'm still… hurt,' he answered at last. 'It's difficult to explain.'

'I know. How is your body – your pulse, your breath…?'

Gin's hand moved away from his chest and the man carefully examined it as if he had never seen it before. He started to stretch his fingers.

'My heart is still going fast. But it's getting better,' he explained. 'And I can breathe normally again – thankfully.'

Gin's hand dropped calmly onto the bed.

'I saw her,' he spoke with a sad tone. 'I saw both of them. It's the oldest kind of nightmare – the one that's mostly a memory. I've been having them again for a week now.'

'Have you talked to your psychiatrist?'

'I have an appointment for tomorrow.'

She didn't ask whether he wanted her to accompany him. Why, when she already knew the answer?

'I hate it,' Gin claimed. 'The nightmares, the panic attacks, the flashbacks, the anxiety, the medication. I hate it all. And it hurts. I could cope with their deaths, but this… I hate this.'

Sherry extended her spread hand towards the man and glanced at him with an inviting look. After a moment of hesitation, Gin nodded and she held his hand.

'Who did that to you?' she questioned with a sigh. 'Who could hurt such a swet boy so much, so deeply, as to scar him for life?'

He didn't reply. But, of course, both knew the answer to her question.

'Shiho?' he spoke after a moment

'Yes?'

'Could you hug me?'

In complete silence, Sherry moved her arms around Gin's shoulders and he let his head fall onto her chest.

'Thank you, Shiho.'

With a second sigh, Sherry placed a kiss on the crown of Gin's head. His cheek pressed harder against her pajamas and her embrace around him tightened.

'You don't need to.'

The night was perfectly quiet and calm.


	5. Can I sit here?

**CW** : xenophobic, racist bullying; food mentions.

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 **Chapter 5: 'Can I sit here?' (13/7/17)**

Shiho's stomach growled. Regardless of her extended biology knowledge, she felt like telling it to shut up.

The food on her pale-colored tray seemed more appetizing the longer she stood in the crowded cafeteria, scanning the space in her unsuccessful search for a seat. Normally, a few tables always remained empty, allowing her to have a peaceful lunch. But not that day. Nor in the next two weeks, while all those exchange students stayed for that childish international science course, convention or whatever they had decided to call it.

Shiho's gaze spotted an empty chair by her favorite table. Losing no time, she hurried across the room, using all of her mobile skill to avoid any bump between her (or her tray) and the other, much taller patrons. But of course they all were taller – they were older than her. Puberty could do wonders, at least regarding height. She hoped that would be her case.

When she reached the table, she noticed two unpleasant things. The first, that only one chair, the one she had seen, was empty. The second, that on the other chairs were sitting some of her classmates.

Shiho's stomach growled again. Swallowing her pride and disgust, the girl took a step towards the table. Her classmates turned towards her and the merry and friendliness on their faces (their undoubtedly Western faces) were quickly replaced by contempt.

'Hi,' Shiho greeted them. All were at least two years older than her. Even while sitting, they looked menacingly tall. She pointed at the empty chair with a movement of her head. 'Can I sit here?' she asked.

Some of her classmates frowned, others laughed – none tried to hide it. A boy sitting in front of the empty chair was the first to speak, answering Shiho's question with a resolute 'No.' Then, as if obeying some unspoken order, the girl sitting closest to the chair grabbed it and pulled it towards hers. Before Shiho could react, a voice whose owner she couldn't recognize shouted, 'Go back to China, freak!'

Shiho bit her lip as the entire group started to laugh loudly. Remaining perfectly silent, she turned her back to them and walked away, her fingers clenching onto her tray.

Her stomach growled once more. The food was getting cold.


	6. Come on, you need a break

**CW** : reckless driving.

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 **Chapter 6: 'Come on, you need a break.' (12/7/17)**

The night was not stormy, as that old book (the title of which he couldn't remember) went, but the sky was covered in heavy clouds. Gin turned the headlights of the Porsche on as soon as he actioned the engine – an accident due to lack of visibility was the last thing they needed, and his sight was too strained to rely on the dim streetlights only.

He knew the grasp of his hands around the stirring wheel has tighter than usual. And he knew Vodka had noticed. But his own attention was fixed on driving, or so he tried in order to keep away the dark mass knocking at the back of his head. Guilt, rage, disappointment, frustration. Even naming them gave them strength. And the stronger they were, the harder to ignore they became.

Gin bit his lower lip. Focus on driving. Focus. Turn right. Keep the safety distance. Push the pedal, but not too hard. Turn left. Drive on. Drive on. Drive on.

The nearest traffic light turned yellow. Gin deduced that, by keeping the same speed they had, it would turn red before they could drive it past. It would make them stop and wait. Not that it would be for too long. But Gin was not having it. Not that time. Not after such a day. Not after such a failure.

He pushed the pedal. The light came closer, still of that same yellow tone. His hands pressed harder against the wheel. Only a few more meters…

'Gin, stop!'

Vodka's shout had an immeadite, uncanny effect upon Gin. Acting out of instinct, he raised his foot from the the gas pedal and actioned the brakes instead, managing to stop the car right as it reached the traffic light, now of a bright red. Before he could assimilate even that information, an inmense truck drove across the intersection before them. Gin's grasp onto the wheel loosened. He noticed his pulse had speeded up.

'Were you trying to kill us?' Vodka snapped. Gin glanced to the side and noticed that his partner had leaned towards him, maybe hoping to stop the car himself if the long-haired man did not. 'And you can thank there were no cars coming behind us, or they would have crushed the Porsche!'

Gin dropped his gaze, too embarrassed to look at Vodka in the eye.

'What on earth, Gin,' Vodka sighed. 'You could have killed us.'

Gin didn't answer. He heard Vodka lean onto his seat and sigh a second time.

'Is it for what's happened today?'

Gin kept quiet but couldn't help tightening his grip around the wheel.

The traffic light before them turned green and the cars at their sides started moving. Gin's foot pushed the gas pedal gently. A moment later, Vodka spoke again, 'Turn to the right at that corner.'

A puzzled Gin glanced at his partner. 'That's…' His lips closed. He hadn't uttered a word since they had returned to the car. The corner Vodka had mentioned was coming closer, so he forced himself to finish his sentence. 'That's not the way to your place.'

'I know,' Vodka admitted. 'Follow my directions. We're going somewhere else.'

Gin didn't reply. When they reached the corner, the Porsche turned to the right.

About ten minutes later and following his partner's instructions, Gin parked the car between two young pine-trees in a well-lighted avenue. Once their seatbelts were unfastened, he reached for the door handle, but Vodka stopped him with a gesture.

'Isn't this the place?' Gin asked.

Vodka nodded. 'It is. But we're not going in as Vodka and Gin. Take off your hat and coat.'

'What?'

'Take them off,' he insisted. 'I'm not asking you to get naked. I don't think they would let you in naked, anyway.' Vodka laughed and took off his own hat. His short, black hair caught Gin's attention. He rarely saw more than the man's thick sideburns. 'I never go in there as Vodka,' the man explained while he took off his black jacket, uncovering the expensive, red shirt underneath. Gin kept quiet. 'And I come very often. But never as Vodka. This is a very special place for me, somewhere I can forget about everything and relax.' Vodka folded the jacket and left in on top of the dashboard along with his hat. Turning towards Gin, he added, 'Come on, you need a break. I don't want you to run into a truck on your way home.'

Gin did not know whether Vodka was joking or not. Without a word, he took off his hat and coat calmly and put them away into the glove box. Vodka smiled approvingly.

The two men stepped out of the car.

'Where are we going, anyway?' Gin asked with a friendly smirk. The chilly night air stirred his long hair.

'It's a tiny pub,' Vodka answered. 'It has no live performances or fancy decorations, but it's cozy and peaceful. I like it.'

'Do you think I'll like it too?'

'I hope.'

The two men grinned widely. The long-haired man made sure all doors and windows of the Porsche were closed and then followed his friend across the lonely street.


	7. What is all that shouting about?

**CW** : occasional use of caps lock, food mention.

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 **Chapter 7: 'What is all that shouting about?' (13/7/17)**

After years working for the Organization, Sherry still wasn't sure whether she had an official schedule as an employee or not. She usually worked in her laboratory from Monday to Friday, starting early in the morning and leaving in the evening, with a pause for lunch at midday. Nevertheless, she received no complaints from her superiors if she came late or left early – at the most, they phoned to check in when she was absent for three or more consecutive days, but only if she hadn't previously announced she was taking some days off. Her monthly salary fluctuated in relation to her hours at the laboratory. And yet, nobody had ever told her she had to work a certain amount of time every week.

Because Gin's job was more susceptible to irregularity (having missions scheduled regardless of the day of the week) one option for Sherry was to adapt her own schedule to his – to work and rest roughly when he did.

'So when do you have your next mission?' she asked him. The only noises to be heard in his quiet apartment were the distant whirr of the washing machine and the hum of some repetitive advertisement on the TV before them. Gin ran a hand through her hair. Sherry, with her head on his lap, grinned shamelessly. Long live the privacy of a Sunday afternoon.

'On Tuesday,' he answered. 'I have two days off – today and tomorrow.'

'You deserve them,' she argued. 'Yesterday you ended up exhausted.'

Gin nodded. Sherry stirred in the man's lap and yawned with her mouth open and uncovered.

'So are you, it seems,' Gin remarked with a laugh. His hand moved to caress her temples. 'Have some sleep. You need to rest, too.'

'But…' A second yawn interrupted her speech. 'I should go to the bed. If I fall asleep here, you won't be able to move…'

'It's okay,' he replied. A kind smile spread across his face. 'I won't need to move from here in a while. And if I do, I'll get you a cushion until I'm back. Now don't worry and sleep.'

'Are you sure?'

'Completely sure. Don't you worry.'

Sherry stirred again, getting herself in a position comfortable enough. She closed her eyes.

The TV was still on. From her point of view, there was nothing good on TV on Sunday afternoons, maybe with the exception of some occasional documentary about nature or history. But those were rare. Soap operas and melodramatic films were the norm. So poorly-written… and predictable… She remembered watching an interesting documentary one Sunday afternoon… It was on Asian elephants… She remembered their long, grey trunks… reaching… for the water…

'GET AWAY RIGHT NOW!'

Sherry woke up.

'BUT WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET AWAY!'

Sherry sat up on the couch and gazed around her. Nothing. The living room remained the same from before she fell asleep. Nobody had entered the room. The washing machine had stopped at some point during her nap.

'What on earth…' she muttered.

'GO, GO! LEAVE!'

Sherry flinched at the third scream. Slowly, she turned towards the origin of the noise – Gin, sitting on the couch and with his eyes fixed on the TV before him.

'RUN, MIYU!' he cried loudly at the screen. 'YOU STILL HAVE A CHANCE!'

'Gin…'

Luckily for Sherry, she did not have to call again to make him react. Gin's gaze flew from the TV to the woman sitting next to him, seemingly surprised to see her.

'Oh, hi, sweetie,' he greeted her casually. 'How did you sleep?'

'What is all that shouting about?'

Despite what Sherry had expected, Gin's face showed no sign of embarrassment at her question. Instead, he grinned like a happy child.

'Oh, that! It's this film!' he answered. He pointed towards the TV and his smile widened. 'It's so exciting! There's this girl named Miyu, who is a college student, and she meets this boy… You see, she was at a friends' birthday party one night…'

Sherry bit her lip but made an effort not to avert her eyes. Halfway through his explanation, Gin glanced at the screen and opened his mouth in surprise.

'She's at the station!' he exclaimed, and hurried to turn again towards the TV. 'I'll tell you later. It's getting even more exciting!'

Sherry stood up and left for the kitchen. Knowing Gin as much as she did, she was aware that she could not count on him until the movie finished. For the time being, she would make herself some tea. And she may get hold of something fancy, like those imported pastries that Gin liked to buy. After all, it was her day off. And, once the movie finished, she knew her boyfriend would come back to her just as he always did.


	8. You don't look so good

**CW** : flu symptoms, mention of death.

* * *

 **Chapter 8: 'You don't look so good.' (14/7/17)**

'You don't look so good.'

Shiho rolled her eyes in a way that asked, 'What have I done to deserve this' and leaned onto her front door.

'Good afternoon to you too, dear' she retorted. Her voice sounded nasal and coarse. 'Now, if you please, go worry somewhere else.'

Shiho turned her back to her boyfriend and walked into the apartment, leaving the door open. He followed her into the hall.

'You said you were ill,' he started.

Shiho's shoulders raised with vehemence as she took a deep, noisy breath.

'For the umpteenth time, Mamoru' she protested, turning towards him in the middle of the hall, 'it's only the flu. The flu. Nothing else!' She gazed furiously at him. The man stood up straight and held her stare in silence, unwilling to give in. After a while, Shiho's expression relaxed. 'If you're coming in to annoy me, I think you could at least close that door.'

Mamoru obeyed. Once the front door was safely shut, Shiho gestured with a hand and the two left for her living room.

'You see, that's why I didn't want to phone you,' she argued while dropping onto the sofa. 'You worry too much and then turn up here thinking I'm dying or something.'

Mamoru peeped around. Apparently, his girlfriend had settled herself before the TV and equipped the surrounding area with everything she could need – two boxes of paper tissues, a mug, at least half a dozen sports drinks bottles, a stack of magazines, a few pens, a notebook and even a digital thermometer rested on the couch and the coffee table right before it. The TV was on, a rare occurrence at Shiho's apartment.

'I can leave if you want.'

The way Shiho averted her eyes and discreetly pouted her lips confirmed he had pushed the right button. He grinned and leaned onto the couch. 'Do you want me to leave?' he insisted.

Shiho raised her gaze and, noticing his expression, made a smirk of her own – one impish, knowing and accusing.

'I know what you're doing,' she claimed.

'You are?'

'You do it all the time,' she explained. 'You threaten me, but it's a lie to have me surrender and admit what I really want deep inside because you know that is what suits your plans the best…'

Mamoru laughed and took a seat next to Shiho, taking care to do it on the couch and not on the magazine she seemingly had been reading earlier.

'You talk as if I intended to take over the world!' he protested.

Shiho arched an eyebrow and her smile widened. 'Isn't it everyone's dream?'

Mamoru held her hands and Shiho looked at him.

'What I intend to do right now is to make sure you're well,' he clarified. Shiho's impish smile disappeared. Her cheeks were flushed. 'And what do you mean by "surrender?" Surrender to what or whom? To me?' He raised his eyebrows. 'Or to yourself?'

Shiho turned her face to one side. Just as she seemed about to reply, she squinted her eyes and reached for her mouth with her right hand.

Before Mamoru could guess what might be going through her mind, Shiho let out a deafening sneeze.

He sighed.

'Should I pass you a tissue?'

Shiho nodded. The man reached for the nearest box, drawing two tissues out of it at once and handing them to Shiho. She cleared her nose loudly and then glanced at him.

'Thank you,' she muttered.

Mamoru's grin widened. Shiho's nose was red, of a tone even brighter than her blushing cheeks. Whether the color of the latter was to blame on the illness or his presence, it didn't matter.

'I'm alright. It's only the flu,' she insisted.

Mamoru nodded in acknowledgement and held her free hand tightly. Only the flu. Nothing worse.

The feared separation would ultimately come no matter what they did. In the meantime, he'd enjoy every minute he could share with her.


	9. I'm not from around here

**CW** : mentions of food, alcohol consumption and death.

* * *

 **Chapter 9: 'I'm not from around here.' (16-17/7/17)**

As any other good scientist (or at least what she considered good scientists), Sherry lived in the knowledge that science could explain absolutely everything. The so-callled miracle of life? Check. The behavior of raccoons? Check. The temperature difference between the city and this lively town by the sea? Check.

And so on, for longer than she cared to think about while having a nice stroll with Gin at dusk.

He had had a good idea. They'd be back in the city in two days' time (anyone else would have attributed the availability of rooms for a reasonable price in mid-July to the intervention of some supernatural force; she thanked booking rates in the area and last-minute cancellations instead), but Sherry already felt emotionally re-energized enough to return to her (air-conditioned) laboratory. She pitied Gin for having to wear black and be outdoors occasionally.

'Where should we dine tonight?' he asked casually. 'At the hotel's restaurant, or somewhere else?'

Sherry pondered for a moment.

'The hotel's restaurant sounds good to me,' she judged. 'The cocktails are very good.'

'But please don't drink too much tonight,' Gin laughed. 'Carrying you to bed one night was enough…'

'As if you couldn't!' she protested. 'You can raise more than my weight above your head!'

'Yes, but…'

Gin stopped. A young woman of about their age had walked towards the couple. Sherry scanned her stylish dress and shoulder-length, light brown hairstyle – she was either headed towards a party or coming back from one. Sherry did not know her.

'Excuse me,' the young woman began. 'I'm not from around here. Do any of you know the way to Floret Boulevard?'

Sherry did not answer.

'We're not from here, either,' Gin explained to the stranger. 'We're on a vacation.'

The woman sighed and bit her lip. Sherry could read the hurry in her expression. Gin seemed to notice, too.

'I think I remember seeing that name earlier, though,' he added. 'I may be wrong, but I believe it was near the harbor.'

'Yes, it's near the harbor,' the woman confirmed. 'I was there last week, at a restaurant called "Seaflower". My fiancé and I booked a table for tonight. We're telling our families we're engaged.'

'He had to go pick up his family at the station and take them to the restaurant,' the stranger continued. 'With his parents and his two elder brothers, that made five in the car. And I just realized I don't know the way by foot…'

'I wish we did,' Gin commented. 'Can't you phone anyone?'

'I tried, but nobody answered. They might be on their way…'

A high-pitched melody ringed in the cool air of the evening. The stranger opened her eyes wide and hurried to reach for her purse, from which she drew a mobile phone.

'My sister!' she exclaimed, glancing at the screen. 'She must be at the restaurant with mom and dad.' With a smile spread across her face, the woman gazed at Sherry and Gin. 'I'll ask her for directions. Thank you very much for your help.'

Gin gestured with his head. 'We didn't do anything…'

'You listened to me,' the woman claimed. 'That was enough. Thank you.' She moved the phone to her ear. 'Have a nice vacation!'

Sherry had time to glance one last time at her before the stranger dashed away. Despite her excited tone, the woman kept her voice low enough for it to die away in a matter of two or three meters. Sherry did not move.

Gin's hand perched on her shoulder.

'Are you okay?' he asked softly.

Sherry did not look at him.

'She has a sister,' she observed. 'And her fiancé has two older brothers.'

Gin took a moment to reply.

'Yeah.' His voice sounded sad and bitter. Sherry guessed he had understood her. As if to confirm it, he continued, 'No untimely deaths. No criminal organizations. A normal life.'

The pressure on her shoulder reduced. Sherry raised her hand to hold Gin's tightly and turned her face towards him.

'We're almost at the lighthouse,' she mentioned. 'After we've had a look, we can head towards the hotel. What do you say?'

Gin nodded. 'Sounds good.'

That night, Sherry took special care not to drink too much.


	10. There's no way you're getting me in that

**CW** : occasional use of caps lock, mild emotional blackmail.

* * *

 **Chapter 10: 'There's no way you're getting me in that.' (18/7/17)**

The phone had to go off twice before Ai dropped her magazine. She reached for the device and glanced at its screen. Kudo. Who else.

In a matter of seconds, the two messages gleamed before her eyes.

'Where are you?' 'Haibara, answer.'

The shrunken scientist rolled her eyes, wishing her friend could see her. She texted, 'I'm home.'

Kudo replied quickly. Apparently, he had been paying attention to his phone.

'Come to the school.'

'Why should I?'

She knew the answer before Kudo sent it.

'The rehearsal starts in 10 minutes.'

Ai's thumb danced across the keyboard.

'I'm not going.'

'Come.'

'I'm not going.'

'It'll be fun. The kids are all here. Ms. Kobayashi has brought pastries.'

Ai's lips pressed tightly together.

'Stop it. We've had this conversation. There's no way you're getting me in _that_.'

'It's a school play, Haibara.'

The girl wondered why she hadn't set her phone aside yet.

'I am not going.'

'Why not?'

'Exposing myself in a school play could give away my current location'

Right as she sent the message, however, another came from Kudo.

'Is it because you play a tree?'

Blood rushed up to Ai's shrunken cheeks and her hands shook in rage while she texted, 'IT IS NOT.'

'It's not that bad. The trees sing and dance their own song.'

'I WILL NOT PLAY A DANCING TREE.'

'Come on. The kids will get sad.'

'LET THEM.'

'Even Ayumi, Genta and Mitsuhiko?'

Ai's thumb stopped at inches from the keyboard.

'They're asking where you are,' Kudo went on. 'They were looking forward to seeing you.'

Ai peeped at the clock and then at her own clothes.

'Fine. I'll be there in twenty minutes.'

Ai jumped off the couch and hurried to write the professor a note telling she'd be back for dinner. Setting it under a vase, she left for the hall.

She'd be late, but better late than never.


	11. Have you seen…? Oh

**CW:** food theme.

* * *

 **Chapter 11: 'Have you seen…? Oh.' (20/7/17)**

Gin shoved a handful of sliced parsley into the bubling soup. He grinned. Sherry would love her dinner. She had had a very hard day at work, but his homemade food would surely draw a smile on her face. It always did, after all. He covered the saucepan and lowered the heat.

Following his mental schedule, he approached the fridge. He still had fifteen odd minutes left until the main dish finished cooking – enough to make a quick yoghurt mousse for dessert. He had already tried the recipe, and he could tell Sherry would like it. He was rummaging in the fridge for the ingredients when he realized he couldn't manage to remember the exact quantities needed. Was it two lemons or one? And how much sugar? He took his head out of the fridge and closed its door. The cookbook. It must be nearby. He checked the clock – he still had time.

His gaze flew over the countertops. Nothing. He hurried to open drawers and cabinets. In the cabinet where he usually kept his cookbooks, he could find all others but not the one he sought. Where could it be? Gin stopped to think. He remembered skimming through its pages in bed two days earlier. But hadn't he also spent a while reading during the intermission of a movie he had caught starting on TV the previous night?

Gin walked out of the kitchen. The TV remained on, although the news had already ended. He had little idea what came next, so maybe Sherry had liked it enough to watch it.

'Sherry?' he called. She didn't answer. He trespassed the threshold of the living room. 'Have you seen…? Oh.'

He stopped. Sherry sat on the couch with her face turned to one side and one hand resting on her lap – fast asleep. Gin pondered on what to do. After a while he left for his bedroom and quickly came back with a blanket he spread over the sleeping body of his girlfriend, up to her chin.

As he turned off the TV, he found the cookbook lying on top of it. He grabbed it and passed a specific number of pages. The bright letters welcomed him: yoghurt mousse. He smiled and headed towards the kitchen. Once he finished making dinner, he would wake Sherry up. A good nap and a quality meal, followed by a whole night's sleep, would do wonders on his favorite scientist.


	12. This is why no one wants

**CW** : tea and coffee.

* * *

 **Chapter 12: 'This is why no one wants to hang out with us.' (18/7/17)**

In opposition to the streets, where the sun baked the dark-colored pavement, a pleasant chill reigned in the café. Of course, the constant whirr of the air conditioning gave it away as the culprit, but Shiho didn't mind. And nobody else seemed to, either – cheesy couples, parents trying to prevent their kids from covering the floor in milk, groups of excited teenagers, staff chatting behind the bar between one order and the next. Unexceptional.

'Anything good?'

Shiho's attention returned to her sister, sitting in front of her. Akemi's forearms settled at each side of her iced tea on the small table.

'You seem very interested,' she explained with a smile. 'Is there anything good to see… or to listen to?'

Shiho made a smirk of her own.

'Nothing.' She reached for her iced coffee. 'Boring people having boring conversations.'

'Nothing is boring,' Akemi claimed. Shiho sipped her drink. 'It depends on how you look at it. The approach is everything. Someone could think we ourselves are boring. But I don't think we are.'

Shiho arched an eyebrow. 'Why not?'

'For starters, all human beings are complex (and thus interesting) by definition,' Akemi argued. 'But some people are not aware of their own complexity. Those are the truly boring people.'

'But you said nothing was boring.'

'Nothing (and nobody) is boring in its essence. But some people are boring in their behavior, in the sense that they bore others.'

Shiho relaxed her expression and let out a laugh.

'This is why no one wants to hang out with us.'

To her surprise, Akemi grinned too and shrugged her shoulders.

'Not that we need them,' she stated.

Shiho's grin widened as she lifted her drink above the table. Akemi, understanding her sister, raised hers as well in response and the glasses touched with a clank.

'You're deep today,' Shiho pointed out.

'I always am.' The sister's glasses withdraw. 'What are we toasting to?'

'To you.'

Akemi advanced her torso. 'To us,' she responded. 'To the Miyano sisters.'

Shiho nodded and sipped her drink. The tea tasted sweet, bitter and sour at the same time. She liked it.

'To the Miyano sisters,' Shiho repeated. 'And proud to be one.'


	13. Please hide me

**CW** : mild violation of privacy, shopping setting, mentions of money.

* * *

 **Chapter 13: 'Please hide me.' (19/7/17)**

The soft, maroon fabric flowed against Shiho's hand. Transpirable, thick enough for a cool autumn but also thin enough for a hot spring. Her hands pulled gently at the middle. Strong seams. She flipped the price tag. It took her much of her willpower not to holler a curse.

She eyed the tags of all other clothes hanging in line. Expensive. Outrageously expensive. With a frown, she turned her back to the cocktail dresses and walked away.

Her boyfriend was inspecting the skirts section nearby. Shiho patted his shoulder as a greeting.

'How were the dresses?' he asked, resuming his search. His long, ash-blond hair fell in a cascade at his side.

'Outstanding,' she judged. 'Especially in their prices.'

'Too many zeros?'

'Way too many.' She seized a short skirt distractedly. 'How did you do?'

'How I still am doing,' he corrected. Finally averting his eyes from the clothes before him, he handed her three skits that hanged from his right arm. 'These are the best I've found. They're your size, high quality and of colors and patterns you'll like.' Shiho raised an eyebrow. 'And the prize is reasonable. The blue one is a bargain when you consider the quality,' he added.

'Thank you very much,' she acknowledged with a smile. 'I'll go try them on. Do you want to come watch?'

Mamoru laughed and turned to the racks again.

That made his hurried entrance into the fitting room a while later the more surprising.

'Mamoru!' she yelped, covering her half-naked body in embarrassment. 'What…?' An urging question crossed her mind. 'Did you know I was here, or did you simply run into the first fitting room you saw?'

'I recognized your shoes,' he whispered. 'I didn't spend an entire afternoon choosing them last winter for nothing.'

'Why do you whisper?' she questioned. 'And why are you here?'

'I spotted a neighbor of mine in the shop. Please hide me.'

Shiho stopped halfway through taking the blue skirt off. 'A neighbor? Why would you need to hide from a neighbor?'

'You have no idea how he is,' Mamoru explained. 'If he sees me, I won't get rid of him in hours!'

'But what does he do?'

'He starts talking and doesn't stop!' Shiho gestured with his head and Mamoru reached to help with her clothes. 'And he doesn't leave me alone.'

'Okay, I'll help you hide.' Shiho finished zipping her jeans. She pondered for a moment. 'You stay here. I'll go out and come back to tell you when your neighbor is gone. What does he look like?'

'Short, dark brown hair. He's one meter seventy or so. He's wearing a yellow shirt.'

Shiho nodded.

'If anyone comes, pretend you're trying on clothes,' she advised. 'I'll be back soon.'

'I hope so.'

Shiho left the fitting room and gazed around the shop. A glimpse of yellow soon caught her attention. There he was.

She walked to the nearest rack and pretended to search for clothes. Time to wait and watch.


	14. I'll pay you for it

**CW:** heavily drunk character, mentions of heavy alcohol consumption, adult behaving irrationally, offer of money.

* * *

 **Chapter 14: 'I'll pay you for it.' (17/7/17)**

Gin snatched the bottle of whiskey away from Sherry before she could pour herself her twelfth glass of the night. The woman puckered her lips like a child and Gin's slightly intoxicated mind feared she would throw a tantrum.

'Give me that!' she grunted. Gin raised his arm to move the bottle out of her reach.

'You've drunk enough.'

'That's what waiters say!' Sherry knelt on the couch, getting herself closer to the bottle. Gin hurried to clutch her wrists with his free hand. Sherry lost her balance and fell face up onto his lap. 'You rogue!'

'Don't be so loud,' Gin warned. He left the bottle on the floor beside the couch and caught a glimpse of his own glass, resting on the coffee table. He grinned. The only thing comparable to sherry was Sherry herself. 'Your neighbors will hear us.'

'Let them! Let them hear us and wake up!'

'It's past three in the morning.' Sherry had stopped tossing around, so he freed her wrists. The woman let her arms fall to her sides but did not sit up.

'It's Saturday.'

'Anyway.' He bended downwards. The alcohol had flushed Sherry's skin. 'Let's be kind,' he whispered.

Sherry clenched her jaw and her feet kicked the couch. 'I don't want to!' she screamed. Gin flinched. 'I don't like them! They are either boring, or nosy, or obnoxious, or all at the same time!'

Gin stroke his temples.

'Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee?'

'There's this couple,' she explained, ignoring him. Thankfully, she had lowered her volume. 'They live in apartment 207. They're forty-something. They greet me every time they see me.' By her tone, Gin deduced such a behavior shocked Sherry. 'But that's not it – if I don't leave fast enough, they try to make conversation! They talk to me about the weather, or tell me about their lives… or even ask about mine! Can you imagine?'

He did not answer. His eyelids felt heavy.

'All other neighbors gave up after a month or two,' she continued. 'This couple is the only exception. I don't know what to do to get rid of them!'

'Maybe you could tell them directly,' he suggested. 'Next time you meet them tell them they overwhelm you.' He yawned. 'Or maybe… you could try to be their friend. They sound… nice…'

'That's it!' she exclaimed, siting up quickly. Gin's eyes opened wide. 'You tell them!'

'Who?'

'You tell the couple in apartment 207 to leave me alone!'

Gin rolled her eyes. Alcohol is the one to blame, he had to remind himself. She does not know what she's saying. Or she does, but her rationality is not the one speaking. He shook his head.

'Let's call it a day,' he suggested.

'I'll pay you for it.' Sherry pointed a resolute finger towards Gin. His foggy mind could not recall the last time she had stared at him so fiercely.

'Let's go to bed,' he insisted. Sherry did not move. 'I am going to bed, and you should, too.'

'Will you tell the couple in 207 to leave me alone?' she pressed. Gin stood up, knowing he would say something rude if he spoke. Before he could take a single step, however, the clutch of Sherry's hand around his wrist stopped him. 'Wait! Don't leave yet.'

Gin sighed. His head had started to ache. 'I'm tired, Shiho. I'm going to bed.'

'I'll go with you.' Gin couldn't help a shocked expression. Sherry stood up with some effort. 'Let's go to sleep. I'll clean this all tomorrow morning.'

'I'll help you.'

'Don't worry.' She smirked clumsily. 'After all, you're my guest.'

Gin grinned. He offered Sherry an arm around which she calmly tangled hers.

'Shall we go?' he proposed.

She nodded. 'We shall.'


	15. I didn't expect you to say yes

**CW** : fixing up of household appliance.

* * *

 **Chapter 15: 'I didn't expect you to say yes.' (19, 20/7/17)**

'If you want, you're free to come.'

He hadn't even asked her directly – in fact, he had no special interest to have her show up.

But there she was.

'Shall I hand you the pliers?'

'Yes, thank you.'

Gin glanced at Sherry as she passed him the pliers. She sat on the floor beside the toolbox, with her legs crossed and a neutral expression on her face. He could not tell what might be going on in her head.

He returned his attention to the washing machine lying open before him

'I didn't expect you to say yes,' he confessed.

'I didn't.'

Gin squeezed a clamp loose.

'I didn't mean literally.' His fingers secured their grip around the pliers. 'You showed up.'

'Why shouldn't I?'

Without the sight of her face, Gin couldn't decipher her neutral tone. She might feel bored. Or annoyed. Or innocently curious.

'There isn't much for you to do here,' he pointed out. 'And I admit watching me fix this must be boring, at best.'

'Do you want me to leave?'

Gin turned to her. Sherry sat still, clutching distractedly at a monkey wrench with her left hand. He looked her in the eye.

'No, I don't want you to leave,' he answered resolutely. Sherry's face remained as neutral as her voice, but somewhere in her eyes he could detect a hint of rejection. 'I like having you near me. I only wish I could pay more attention to you right now.'

Sherry gazed down. He noticed the pain in her frown and the embarrassment in her tightly squeezed lips.

'I don't mind if you can't pay much attention to me,' she claimed. 'But I missed you. And I wanted to prove I am willing to stick with you through the good, the bad and the mundane.' She paused. 'I'd like to be part of your life, if you'd let me.'

There was a silence. Sherry's left hand had let the monkey wrench drop next to her foot. Gin took a deep breath – tiny drops of sweat had begun to run down his temples.

'Could you hand me some cloth?' he asked.

Sherry looked puzzled. 'Cloth?'

Gin gestured over his shoulder.

'This is going to let out some dirt. And I'd rather face it with the right weapons.'

Sherry grinned and stood up.

'The first drawer from the top, was it?'

Gin grinned too.

'Exactly.'


	16. I could kiss you or I could kill you

**CW** : references to sleep deprivation, mentions of dressing an unconscious person, interference in a romantic partner's professional life without their consent, mentions of murder, mentions of food.

* * *

 **Chapter 16: 'I could kiss you or I could kill you.' (22/7/17)**

Sunlight fell onto Sherry's tightly shut eyelids. She stretched under the sheets and her cheek pressed against the pillow. It smelled of her. And of him. But he had already left the bed – his side was getting cold. She guessed it must be at least nine in the morning. Pretty late…

Her eyes opened wide. She had overslept. Bewildered, she sat up and checked the alarm clock on the nearest bedside table. Half past nine. She fought back a curse.

Gin entered the room as she hurried to take off her pajamas – which she hardly remembered putting on, by the way. Knowing him as she did, she guessed who the culprit was.

'Good morning,' he greeted with a smile. 'How did you sleep?'

'I'll tell you how much I've slept – too much!' she replied. 'I see you have the morning off.'

'So do you.' Sherry started to search for her clothes. Apparently noticing, he added, 'Your clothes from last night are in the washing machine. I thought they could use some soap.'

'What do you mean I have the morning off?' she inquired, approaching her closet. Gin opened the doors for her.

'The entire day, to be true.' Sherry glanced at him in shock. 'If I were you, I'd put some warm clothes on. It's rather chilly today.'

'The entire day?' she repeated. She grabbed the first jumper she saw and slid her head in. 'Explain that to me in detail.'

Gin shrugged his shoulders. 'I simply phoned to tell you were not going today.'

'To tell what?' she exclaimed. 'Gin, they won't let me…'

'You have the direct approval of "that person",' he explained in a calm but firm voice. 'Who did you think I'd phone, if not "that person"? Besides, you don't seem to remember who the supervisor of your project is,' he remarked.

'Of course I remember,' she protested. After some pondering, she chose a pair of dark jeans and put them on. '"That person" is a crook to have you as my supervisor, knowing we are in a relationship.'

'Don't say it too loud.'

'Anyway.' Sherry shut the doors of the closet and turned to Gin. 'I have to go. I don't care what you might have told "that person", I'm leaving for my laboratory.' A mischievous smile flourished on Gin's face. 'What is it?'

'I've hidden your motorbike keys.'

Sherry opened her eyes wider than before. 'You've what?!'

'Okay, calm down,' he pleaded, extending his arms between the two. 'Sit down and I'll explain everything to you. Will you do me that favor, to sit down and listen to me?'

'I'll listen to you,' she agreed with a fierce expression. She folded her arms. 'And you'd better have a good explanation for all this… senselessness!'

'Fine.' He took a deep breath. 'First of all, and to clear things up, even if I gave you your keys, you couldn't do much.'

'Why not?'

'Because your motorbike is still parked by the laboratory.' Sherry's arms unfolded in surprise. 'I couldn't let you ride it. You should have seen yourself last night! You dozed off before you could even finish putting on your pajamas!'

'And you lent a hand,' she muttered.

'You hadn't slept in who knows how many hours,' he continued. '24, I'd guess!' 48, she corrected him internally. She averted her eyes. 'You needed to rest – you need to rest. You have been working for ten days straight. That's more than enough.'

'It was because I was stuck,' she argued. 'And then I found a problem and had to fix it…'

'But what about now?' Sherry looked at him. 'Are you still stuck? Have you fixed the problem?'

'Well… Yes, I have fixed the problem,' she acknowledged. 'And I'm no longer stuck.'

Gin took a step towards her.

'Then, why go today, after ten days straight of work?' he questioned. 'Why not have the rest you need and more than deserve?'

Sherry averted her eyes again.

'I have the day off, too,' he informed her. 'We can go to the movies, or for a walk. Or we could go shopping. You work too much – why not have some fun today?'

Sherry sighed and moved closer to him, until their feet nearly brushed. She held his hand.

'I could kiss you or I could kill you,' she confessed.

'The first sounds better.'

The two laughed.

'Now, what do you say to breakfast?' he proposed with a friendly grin. 'I can cook you whatever you want – rice, pancakes… You must be hungry.'

Sherry made a grin of her own. She could kiss him or kill him. For the time being, she would settle with the first option.


	17. When you asked me out

**CW** : shopping setting, food mentions, (non-chronic) hunger.

* * *

 **Chapter 17: 'When you asked me out, this is not what I had in mind.' (22/7/17)**

Her words had been 'Do you want to go out tonight?' Vague, but promising enough. He had pictured themselves strolling downtown, dining somewhere nice, having a drink or two at the pub currently in vogue.

Pretty much everything possible but this.

Not that he minded going shopping with her – it wouldn't be the first time, nor the last. He only regretted not having had dinner at home. He checked his watch and wondered how late they'd leave.

'Anything wrong?'

Gin gazed up. Sherry had turned towards him. A cobalt dress hanged from her forearm.

'Nothing.' Sherry arched an unconvinced eyebrow. 'I'm getting hungry,' he admitted.

'Haven't you had dinner?'

Gin shook his head. 'When you asked me out, this is not what I had in mind. I thought we would be hanging out downtown.'

'We're downtown.' At the expression on his face, she added, 'I known, I got what you meant. I should have been more explicit in my invitation.'

'Don't worry,' he responded, gesturing with his hand. He grinned. 'After all, it's 'Go Out of Season' night. You didn't lie. You only left part of it out.'

Sherry grinned as well and returned to the racks she had been inspecting.

'It's worth a study how designer clothes vary in their prices,' she remarked. She turned again to him and held a ruffled blouse before his chest. 'Look, this was 10,000 yens last season – and now it's only 5,000. But ruffles will make a strong comeback next season, experts say' she informed with an air of superiority. She rested the blouse on her forearm, on top of the dress. 'As well as blues and greens. No more warm colors.'

'I thought you liked crimson red?'

'I do,' she confirmed. 'But fashion changes like the tides – and you either swim or sink.'

Gin nodded slowly.

'Now that I have these two, we'll go find you something,' Sherry announced. Leaving him no time to react, she headed towards the men's section. Gin followed her. 'Cool colors suit you very well.'

'Are you going to dress me in ruffles, too?' he asked with a laugh.

Having reached the first racks filled with men's clothes, the two stopped.

'Why not?' Sherry answered at last. She leaned onto the racks and gazed into Gin's eyes. He felt his cheeks warm up. 'You dress very well, dear, and I'll make sure you keep on with that. With a little of my help, be sure you'll walk out of this shop tonight as the trendiest man in town.'

'I'm lucky to have you near, then,' he observed. Sherry took a step towards him. 'Incredibly lucky.'

'So am I to have you,' she claimed. Gin closed the distance between their faces. His nose brushed hers and her warm breath grazed his cheek. He wondered wether her lips would be that warm.

Before their mouths could touch, Gin's stomach growled loudly.

He retreated and tried to laugh the embarrassment off.

'Sorry…'

Sherry made an awkward smile. 'I'm the one who should be sorry.' She offered him her free hand. 'Come on, let's get out of here – you need to eat.'

'Don't worry!' he hurried to reply. 'I'm fine. And you're not done yet.'

'I'm done whenever there's something more important before me,' she argued. Gin's pulse speeded up. 'Come,' she insisted. 'I know somewhere great nearby.'

Without a word, Gin held Sherry's hand. After a quick stop at the woman's section to return the clothes she had chosen, the two left the shop.

He might not walk out as 'the trendiest man in town,' to use her words, but he was glad to be the 'something more important' before such a wonderful woman.


	18. My parents are visiting – right now

**CW** : f/m foreplay sexual touch, references to genitals, sexual puns.

* * *

 **Chapter 18: 'My parents are visiting – right now.' (24/7/17)**

Sherry moved her arms around Gin's neck. The man's hands, resting on her waist, fastened their grip.

'I missed you,' she confessed. 'Did you miss me?'

Gin brushed his nose against hers. Sherry gazed at his open, inviting lips.

'A lot,' he answered. Sherry's pulse speeded up as his hands glided downwards to hold her buttocks. Her fingers danced under his shirt. 'I couldn't wait to see you.'

She smirked. 'And now? Are you happy to see me?'

Gin laughed and, gripping her buttocks, shoved her body closer to his. A more than familiar bump pressed against her lower belly. Sherry's smirk widened.

'Quite happy, it seems.'

'Very happy,' he corrected with a smirk of his own. 'Do you want me to show you?'

'I'd be more than glad.' Sherry held Gin's left hand and slid it under her dress. A shiver ran up her spine when his fingers grazed her panties. Luckily, she wouldn't keep them on for much longer. 'I'm very happy to see you, too, as you can notice.'

Gin grinned. Waiting no longer, Sherry raised her chin and reached for a kiss.

Their lips touched briefly before a loud ring pierced the night air. Twice. To her dislike, Gin retreated.

'Someone's at your door,' he pointed out. 'Shouldn't you answer?'

She should. But she didn't want to.

'It could be important,' he argued. She felt like whining when he freed her from his embrace. 'Go check. I'll wait here.'

The bell rang a third time. Sherry rolled her eyes and left for the hall.

The strong, white light of the landing blinded her when she opened the front door. After a few, quick blinks, her eyes adapted to the light enough to distinguish the figure before her. She immediately regretted answering the door.

Of all her (numerous) neighbors, only two insisted on trying to socialize with her. One of them stood out of her apartment at that moment.

'Good evening, Ms. Miyano! I hope you're doing alright!'

'Good evening, Mrs. Daiguchi. How can I help you?'

The middle-aged lady widened her smile. She seemed not to have noticed Sherry's bored tone.

'The condo is holding a meeting in two weeks' time,' the lady informed. Her wrinkled hands offered Sherry a stack of typed sheets the young woman grabbed out of respect. 'Mrs. Yamada brought these sheets with the info shortly before lunchtime, but you were not home, so I took them.'

'Thank you, Mrs. Daiguchi.' Sherry pushed the front door gently. 'Have a good night…'

'We want to contact the townhall,' the lady explained. Sherry stopped the door. 'It's outrageous how unkept our street is. Besides, Mrs. Yamada says we should have the building painted. I agree. The paint of the eastern side is falling apart…'

'I hope you succeed, Mrs. Daiguchi.' Sherry tried to close again. 'Now, good n…'

'These last months' hailstorms have been the final nail in the coffin,' Mrs. Daiguchi continued. 'The paint was starting to wear out, yes, but it had done well enough. And such hailstorms…! Do you remember that day two months ago or so? The hailstones were as big as apples! I thought they would break my windows…'

'Listen, Mrs. Daiguchi, no offence, but I don't think this is the right situation to… tell me about your windows…'

'You're right!' the lady exclaimed with an innocently shocked expression. She tilted her head and smiled again. 'Would you like to come to my apartment? My husband is still awake – we will love to explain to you in depth what the topics of the meeting will be. We can have a cup of tea.'

Sherry fought back a curse. Things were going downhill.

'I'm afraid I can't go, Mrs. Daiguchi,' she responded. 'The thing is…'

'Oh, I understand! You have someone visiting, right? I knew I had heard a noise. But, as you're here with me, it couldn't be you!'

'Yes, that's it. My parents are visiting – right now.'

'How wonderful!'

'We haven't seen each other in a while. If you please…'

'Oh, of course!' the lady interrupted her. 'I understand you'll need to catch up. We'll talk some other day.' Mrs. Daiguchi took a step away from the threshold and bowed her head. 'You three have a good night!'

'Good night to you too.'

Sherry didn't wait for her neighbor to leave before she closed the front door. Soon enough, Mrs. Daiguchi's steps pounded in the landing. Once they faded away, Sherry walked out of her hall and further into the apartment.

Gin waited sitting on the couch – to her delight, fully naked. His clothes rested on the coffee table, next to a row of condoms. His crossed legs barely hid his half-erect dick.

'Welcome back,' he chirped. 'Are you happy to see me?'

Indescribably happy.


	19. Did you do that for me?

**CW:** mentions of emotional breakdown, food, tea and DIY.

* * *

 **Chapter 19: 'Did you do that for me?' (23/7/17)**

Opening her eyes, the first fact to puzzle Sherry was the time, as shown on the nearest clock. The second fact was the location, shocking mostly in relation to the time. Gin's bed had become a common place for her to wake up, but not on a Thursday afternoon.

The latest events gradually floated up to her conscious mind. She frowned and struggled not to bury her face in the pillow. She did feel much more rested after a nap, but her apartment surely wouldn't have solved its own problems itself. Neither would have the APTX project. And she still had to phone Akemi.

She left the bed with a fluid movement. Glancing down, she noticed she still wore the clothes in which she had left her apartment. How strange. Normally, Gin would have insisted that she put on pajamas before going to bed. She wondered why he hadn't that time.

As she wandered towards the living room, she noticed a third shocking fact: Gin's absence. He had seemed especially attentive earlier, suggesting that she take a nap in his own bed and encouraging her to make herself at home in his apartment. She had supposed he would stay while she slept, maybe to greet her when she woke up and offer her a cup of tea. Sherry blushed and tried to drive such thoughts away. He had done more than enough. Especially with how she had showed up without notice at his door and proceeded to have an emotional breakdown on his couch. Anyone else would have kicked her out. Not that she had much experience on the matter.

She stopped when she reached the living room. Should she leave? Should she stay? Gin could be anywhere – maybe even on a mission. She ignored whether he had work that afternoon. She had been selfish enough to believe he would available for her, not once, but twice on the same day. She should leave. But wouldn't it come across as unrespectful not to wait for her host to return?

Gin's keys chimed against the front door before she could make up her mind. While she tried to decide whether to go meet him in the hall, the man strolled into the living room.

'Oh, hi!' he greeted her. 'You're awake. Did you sleep well?'

Sherry nodded in silence, trying to conceal her perpexlity at the sight before her. More specifically, at the abundant, confusing signs of what he might have been doing while she slept – the toolbox, the casual clothes, the cooler, the slight redness of his hands, the plastic bag from a supermarket near Sherry's apartment.

'Thank you for letting me stay,' she managed to say.

Gin gestured with a hand, as he usually did to downplay matters. The toolbox he held jerked in the air with an array of clanks and muffled thuds. 'It's nothing. Have you had something to eat?'

'I just woke up.'

'Let me leave this stuff where it must go and I can make you something,' he suggested. 'If you want, of course.'

'I could use a cup of tea,' she confessed. 'Let me help you,' she added, taking a step towards him. Gin grinned and handed her the toolbox, which she hurried to take.

'You can leave this under the sink,' he explained.

Sherry nodded and the two left for the kitchen. She couldn't help noticing that he dropped the cooler as soon as they walked in. It must be heavy. Most probably, it contained food. Most probably.

'In the corner,' he directed her. Sherry opened the tiny doors under the sink and slid the metallic box in. 'That's it. Thank you. Now, what do you want to eat?' he asked, opening the cooler and starting to transfer its contents to his fridge. Sherry watched closely. The items looked uncannily similar to those in her own fridge. The same fruit, the same jar with the same amount of jam left…

'Gin?'

'Yes?'

'Where did you get all of that food?'

The man glanced down and grinned.

'From your fridge, of course. I couldn't let it go bad.'

Sherry's eyes opened wide. It took a moment before she could assimilate the information.

'You have been at my apartment?'

'Of course,' he admitted casually. He resumed the transfer. 'The bathroom pipe is fixed,' he informed. 'Luckily, it wasn't too different from the ones in my apartment. I had a look at your fridge, but I don't think I could fix it, so I phoned an electrician.' He drew a folded paper sheet from a pocket and passed it to her. 'He said he can go tomorrow morning, but that he might take a few hours to fix the fridge. The price is reasonable. Oh, and I brushed and mopped the bathroom and the kitchen. I hope you don't mind.' Gin closed the cooler and the fridge, apparently done with them. He grabbed the plastic bag and stood up. 'I still have one hour before I have to get ready and leave for my next mission, so let get my overalls into the washing machine and I'll be with you. I will make sure you're well-fed,' With a laugh, the man stood up and turned towards Sherry. 'What do you say?'

'Did you do that for me?'

Gin stared at her with a puzzled expression.

Her voice threatened to quiver as she continued, 'Did you do all of that… for me?'

'Y-yes,' he stuttered. 'Who else? It's your apartment I just left, not my neighbor's,' he joked. Sherry didn't laugh – she was too shocked for her face to show any other emotion. He explained awkwardly, 'I wanted to help you. And as I couldn't regarding the APTX or your sister, I decided to help in terms of… housing, to call it. You gave me keys long ago, so I only had to grab some stuff and leave.' He paused and the discomfort on his face was replaced by worry. 'Did I go too far? Are you upset?'

Sherry made a timid smile and shook her head.

'Not at all.' She walked towards him and held his hand. 'You're… fantastic. I can't believe you've done all of that for me, especially before a mission. I'm speechless. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea what it means to me that you've done all of that.'

Gin grinned.

'I'm glad I've managed to help you.'


	20. That's a weird way to say 'I love you'

**CW** : mentions of food and insufficient sleep.

* * *

 **Chapter 20: 'That's a weird way to say 'I love you.'' (28/7/17)**

Sherry leaned back on her chair. Her hand tapped the keyboard before her distractedly, shifting the image from one rat to the next, while the phone dialed against her ear.

A hollow clank signaled the end of her wait.

'Hello?'

'Good morning, sister. How did you sleep? I hope I haven't woken you up.'

Akemi's voice sounded drowsy at the other end of the line.

'Don't worry, I've been awake for a while.'

Shiho's hand left the keyboard and rested on her desk.

'So?' she insisted. 'How did you sleep?'

'Like a baby. And you?'

'The same.'

'I bet you woke up at six or something,' Akemi joked. The hint of laughter in her voice widened Shiho's smile.

'And you're right,' she conceded. 'I like to be early for work.'

'For work?' All drowsiness disappeared from Akemi's voice, being replaced by an unmistakable tone of shock. 'You're working right now? How many hours have you slept? Please tell me it's more than three!'

'Calm down, sister. I did sleep only three hours, but I feel perfectly fine.'

'I thought you'd take the day off!'

'The project needs me,' Shiho argued. 'And I don't need much sleep, luckily for said project.'

'Shiho, you should rest. Take the day off…'

'I'm perfectly fine,' she repeated. 'You enjoy your day off – yesterday was your birthday, not mine. Did you like the cake?'

'Don't change the topic!'

'Did you like the cake?'

Akemi sighed in surrender. 'I loved it. I really did. You outdid yourself.'

'I didn't make the cake.'

'But you had it made. And you made the reservation at the trendiest restaurant in town, and treated me, and bought me that lovely designer sweater…'

'You're lucky I know your size by heart. If you ever change it, remember to tell me.'

'You're wonderful, Shiho. Thank you. Thank you very much. I had a great time yesterday.'

'I'm glad.' Akemi didn't reply. 'If you're happy, that makes me happy. As simple as that. Who cares about sleep.'

'That's a weird way to say 'I love you.''

Shiho grinned.

'It's not that weird!'

Akemi laughed at the other end of the line and Shiho let her grin widen. With a movement of her ankle, she turned her office chair to one side. The project could have her at any time of the day, on any other day of the year – but this moment was solely for her sister.


	21. Don't worry, I'm right here,

**CW** : hospital setting, life-threatening physical health issues, mentions of death.

* * *

 **Chapter 21: 'Don't worry, I'm right here, and I'm not leaving.' (26/7/17)**

Gin's forehead burned. His entire body burned. Or so it seemed. The drops of sweat that ran down his temples and torso dampened the white, aseptic bed. He remembered having read somewhere that all fabric in operating rooms was green to avoid blood from standing out visually. He guessed patient's beds were white so nurses could quickly spot any hint of red.

He noticed his pulse shook when his left hand loosened the sheets. Biting his lower lip, he let his head fall back onto the pillow and tried to control his breath. In. Out. Deep breaths. In. Out. The point on the back of his right hand where the intravenous drip met his skin itched. In. Out.

A voice shouted in the corridor. The man turned his face to one side – his head ached. But he didn't want to fall asleep, not on such conditions. Someone started to run in the corridor. He wished the Organization had chosen a different floor for their medical facilities, maybe of a material that muffled noises…

The door of his room opened. He glanced in the direction of the noise and his heart skipped a beat when he recognized the person standing in the threshold. But how could he not recognize that reddish-brown hair, those blue eyes he'd stare into for hours?

Sherry ran to his side and leaned onto the bed.

'Mamoru!' she exclaimed. A dark red dyed her cheeks. 'How are you?'

The man smiled. She had come. His hand reached towards her and she held it as delicately as she would with an injured kitten. He smiled with some effort.

'I've been better.'

'How is your wound?' Sherry's voice sounded as serious and grave as he hadn't heard it in a long while. He noticed she was making a huge effort to come across as calm. Not that he wasn't. Birds of a feather.

'Infected,' he disclosed. She didn't seem surprised. She must have spoken to his doctor. 'I don't know how much.' He pointed at the I.V. with his head. 'The antibiotics don't seem to kick in. I'm glad you're here,' he added.

Sherry's fingertips caressed the palm of his hand. 'How could I not come?'

'By now, I bet they know your number by heart,' he joked. 'How many times have they phoned you in the last year?'

'Thirteen. This, in fact, is number thirteen.'

Gin laughed internally. How fitting for number thirteen to be…

'You're scared, Mamoru.'

Gin returned his attention to Sherry. It had not been a question.

'You're scared,' she insisted.

'I am,' he conceded. Why lie, when she had probably read him as soon as she walked in? 'I've never had a wound infect this bad. I thought…' He paused. He let out a bitter laugh. 'I thought I was going to die without saying my goodbyes to you.' The tears that filled his eyes threatened to fall. He blinked to fight them back and gazed at Sherry. 'But you've come.'

'You're not going to die, Mamoru. Not today,' she claimed as firmly as if she had the last word on the matter. He struggled not to laugh again and averted his eyes. The tears had started rolling down.

'I'm not invincible. Do I need to remind you?' He took a deep breath. 'I'm scared, Shiho. I'm scared. I'm scared to close my eyes and… never open them again – to never see you again.'

Sherry's hand closed tightly around his fingers.

'You won't. Not today.'

Gin bit his lips and let the tears fall freely. The pillow started to dampen. Outside the room, nurses and doctors walked up and down the corridor. Always in a hurry. Never running. The wound in his hip burned.

'Don't worry, I'm right here, and I'm not leaving.'

Gin held her hand back and nodded.

'I know.'


	22. I think this person is following me,

**CW** : main character being stalked, mentions of firearm and tea.

* * *

 **Chapter 22: 'I think this person is following me, please walk me home.' (26, 27/7/17)**

Ai peeped over her shoulder. There he was. Or she. Or whoever. What she cared about was that that person had been following her for roughly half an hour.

She had first noticed while eyeing a Fusae bag, but she hadn't given it a second thought. She started to suspect after seeing the same person behind her in four different shops. Only one doubt remained – was she being followed by a member of the Organization? Few other types of people would stalk a seven-year-old.

She had tried phoning both Kudo and Agasa, but none answered. She did not dare to return to the professor's house – if her pursuer was indeed part of the Organization, she would not only risk being attacked in the lonely streets leading to her new home, but also give away its location, compromising the safety of all the people she had known since she shrank. As long as she remained in the crowded shopping district, everything would be fine. But the dusk drew near…

A shiver ran down her spine when she noted on the mirror-like windowpane of a shop that her chaser had moved a few feet closer to her. She struggled not to speed up her own pace. Breathe in, breathe out. If they know you're scared, you're done.

From the corner of the eye she spotted a mass of people waiting to cross the street. As discreetly as she could, she slid in. Her pursuer stopped, pretending to examine the window of an expensive shop (or actually doing so?). When the light turned green, Ai rushed to cross the zebra pad and walked into the first shop she found at the other side of the street.

She leaned against the door. Her pulse and breath had speeded up and her hands were starting to shake. She glanced out of the nearest window and fought back a curse – her chaser had stopped at the traffic light.

A hand tapped her shoulder and the girl turned with a violent jerk, expecting to face a stranger dressed in black pointing a gun towards her.

To her surprise and relief, she found Ran Mouri instead.

'Hello, Ai!' Ran greeted her with a smile. 'What a coincidence you're here! How are you doing?'

Ai stared at Ran. Maybe, only maybe…

'I…' she began. Ran tilted her head, apparently to show she was listening. 'I need your help. Could you help me?'

'Of course! What is it?'

Ai glanced out of the window again. The figure was crossing the street. Her time was running out. She took a step towards Ran and blurted, 'I think this person is following me, please walk me home.'

For an instant, she feared Ran would not believe her, that she would be left alone with whoever her chaser was – only for the brief instant it took Ran's smile to be replaced by a serious look.

'Who is it?' Ran asked, gazing out of the window.

'The person wearing a plain, black suit and a light-grey shirt.'

Ran's blue eyes scanned the crowd and fixed upon what Ai, with her back to the window, supposed must be the stalker.

'I'll tell you what we'll do: we'll pretend you're my sister,' Ran explained. 'You'll come sit and have tea with Sonoko and me. Then, you'll go home with me – you'll sleep at my place tonight. We'll phone the professor from there.' She extended her hand towards Ai, who held it with no hesitation. Ran smiled again and looked into the girl's eyes. She came across to Ai not as a teenager, but as a strong, full-grown woman. 'I won't let whoever that is harm you. I promise. I'll take care of you, Ai.'

Ai tightened her grip around the girl's hand. Akemi's face and voice dashed across her mind. 'Thank you.' Ran's smile widened and the sweetness on it caught all of Ai's attention.

'It's nothing. Now, what should we order for you? The meringue pastries are delicious!'

Ai let herself grin and followed Ran further into the café. Her hand was soft and warm. It reminded her of Akemi's.

It seemed to promise that everything would be fine.


	23. I don't need your attitude

**CW** : argument, unhealthy behavior, mentions of food.

* * *

 **Chapter 23: 'I don't need your attitude.' (21/7/17)**

Gin's incipient worries disappeared as soon as he found out there was someone in the laboratory area. Of course she didn't answer her phone. Of course he hadn't heard of her in the last twelve hours. He didn't need to walk in to know who remained working so late. Who else could it be? He typed his own security code and entered the area.

He had to check a few empty rooms before he arrived at her personal office.

Sherry turned to the door as he walked in. As usual, she sat before her computer.

'Gin?' Her voice sounded as puzzled as her face looked. 'What are you doing here?'

The man soon approached her desk. 'You didn't answer the phone.'

'I was busy.' Gin glanced around. Her mobile phone was nowhere to be seen – probably resting in her purse. 'I still am. Could you be brief?'

'Do you know what time it is?' he questioned, folding his arms over his waist. 'Ten fifty. Have you had dinner?'

'I am not hungry,' she claimed defensively.

Gin made the friendliest smile he could despite his worry and offered her a hand. 'Let me take you home. You've done enough; call it day.'

Sherry frowned. 'I'm busy, Gin, I've told you.'

'You need to eat and sleep, Shiho. This…'

'Stop.'

Gin arched an eyebrow.

'Stop it,' she insisted. She raised her chin. 'You think that it'll only take you to say my name to have me do whatever you please? You seriously think I'm that easy to manipulate?'

'You stop,' he replied, crossing his arms more tightly than before. 'I don't need your attitude.'

'My attitude?'

'You know I could be in my bed right now,' he pointed out. 'You know I could be resting from a day of work you'd better not hear about. But, no, I come here to check how you're doing. And this is how you react.'

'I didn't ask you to come,' she retorted. 'I appreciate that you thought of me, but that does not mean I must do what you want me to.'

'What I want you to do?' he repeated. He let out a bitter laugh. 'How many hours has it been since you late ate, Shiho? I will call you whatever I want,' he added at the offended expression on her face. 'How longer do you intend to stay up? You need to sleep and eat. I thought you had studied enough Biology to be aware of how your own body works.'

'Yes, I have,' she assured fiercely, her eyes fixed on his. 'And I know very well how to take care of myself, too, and how to manage my own time.'

'I'm worried for you, Shiho!' he protested, making an unbearable effort not to raise his voice. 'How can such a brilliant mind as yours not realize something that simple?'

'I do realize!' she stated in a shout. He flinched. 'But you are nobody to order me around! I can take excellent care of myself, Gin, and I will.'

The man took a deep, upset breath. He unfolded his arms.

'Fine. Have it your way.'

'Don't you worry – I will.'

Gin turned his back to the woman and dashed away with a firm pace. He had reached his car before he looked back.

She hadn't called him by his name at any point. He got into the car and hurried to start the engine. Let her do whatever she wanted, however unhealthy, he thought. She was old enough to know better.


	24. When did you get so -- ?

**CW** : food, alcoholic drinks, mentions of homophobia and coffee.

* * *

 **Chapter 24: 'When did you get so _?' (27/7/17)**

Vodka had exaggerated, but not too much. The restaurant was nice, the waiters and waitresses were friendly, the prices weren't too high and, most importantly, the food was very good. And the drinks as well. Out of habit, he had checked whether they had sherry. His heart had twisted painfully when he saw they did.

Gin sipped at his gin-tonic.

'So?' Vodka inquired with a smirk. Gin still didn't get used to seeing him in casual clothes. He wondered whether Vodka felt the same.

'You were right,' he conceded. Vodka's smirk widened.

'Yes! And you know what that means…'

'I'll treat you.' Gin pinned down a slice of tofu with his fork. 'But next time I'm choosing the place!'

'As if you could do better…' Vodka laughed. He pushed his empty dish to one side and glanced around the restaurant. 'What are you ordering for dessert? There's also coffee, _á la_ European.'

Gin swallowed his last slice of tofu and let go of the cutlery. 'No dessert for me. I'm full.'

'You could have a cup of coffee. I heard it's good for…' Vodka stopped and raised his eyebrows in shock. He let out a curse.

'What's wrong?' Gin asked. He turned, expecting to see someone holding a gun towards them.

'Don't turn!'

'What is it?' Gin insisted, leaning onto the table. Vodka had lowered his head. 'Vodka, what is it?'

Vodka gazed up and let out a second curse. 'It's an ex-boyfriend of mine! He's coming…' Vodka extended his arm across the table. 'Hold my hand!'

Gin couldn't help a face of surprise.

'What?'

'Pretend you're my new boyfriend! That'll teach him a lesson…'

'A lesson? Vodka, what…?'

'I'll explain all to you later!' Vodka argued in a whisper. 'I'm asking you to hold my hand, Gin! When did you get so homophobic?'

'I'm not homophobic!' Gin replied in an equally quiet voice. 'But I don't understand what kind of lesson you have to teach that guy!'

'He said I'd never get a new boyfriend,' Vodka explained reluctantly. 'He always thought himself superior to everyone else. I don't know how I fell in love with such a guy… He's almost here!' he warned. 'Hold my hand, Gin!'

Gin hurried to grab Vodka's strong hand, just in time for a man in expensive clothes to approach their table.

'Look at who we have here!' the stranger exclaimed. 'How long has it been?'

Vodka stood up to shake the newcomer's hand.

'Three years or so, I think. How is it going, Ichigo?'

'Three years?' the man repeated. 'But that's since we broke up! Since we last met it's been… how long? Two years?'

'Yes, at that Christmas party,' Vodka sat down. 'I see you haven't changed much.'

'I haven't changed? I've improved! I've been promoted twice!' The man seemed to notice Gin's presence. 'Won't you introduce us?'

Vodka signaled towards Gin and they held hands. Vodka smiled. 'Ichigo, this is my boyfriend Ren. Ren, this is Ichigo, an ex.'

From the corner of the eye Gin noticed Ichigo had frowned. Vodka's plans went well.

'It's been nice to see you,' the man commented. He averted his eyes. 'Have a nice lunch.'

'You too.'

The two friends kept quiet while they watched Ichigo walk away. Once he had disappeared among the tables, Vodka turned towards Gin.

'Thank you, Gin, thank you!' His grip around Gin's hand tightened affectionately. 'It couldn't have gone better! That'll teach him some humility. Did you see how big-headed he is?'

'Lots,' Gin agreed with a nod. 'He didn't even ask how you were doing!'

'He's always been like that. That's why I broke up with him.'

'The best thing you could do. By the way...'

'Yes?'

'Why 'Ren,' if I may ask?'

Vodka laughed and finally let go of Gin's hand.

'It's the name of a news presenter – the first I could think of!'

Gin arched an eyebrow and grinned.

'Wasn't some Ren the guy you've been dating for a while, too?'

Vodka's smile widened and he shrugged his shoulders. Gin laughed. He grabbed his glass and raised it above the table.

'To Ren! The real one, of course.'

Vodka laughed and toasted. His cheeks had flushed slightly.

'To Ren!'

* * *

 **N/A:**

I would lie if I said I don't headcanon Vodka as gay thanks to Tumblr: detective4869(period)tumblr(period)com(slash)post(slash)113036634337(slash)you-know-what-id-be-down-for-a-casually-gay.


	25. It just sort of happened

**CW** : nudity, mention of death.

* * *

 **Chapter 25: 'It just sort of happened.' (28/7/17)**

'Shiho?'

Sherry's head brushed against Gin's chest. He tightened his embrace around her waist.

'Yes?'

'Out of curiosity – how is it that you fell in love with me?'

Sherry stirred under the sheets.

'I don't know. It just sort of happened.'

Gin grinned and looked her in the eye.

'That's the laziest answer you could give me. You know, right?'

Sherry laughed. She stretched and threw her arms over his shoulders.

'And you? How is it that you fell in love with me?'

'I don't know. I just sort of happened.'

Sherry laughed again. Gin joined her and placed a kiss on her forehead.

Gin and Sherry's naked bodies pressed against each other. On the nearest bedside table, an alarm clock signaled the time. Little remained before they should part. In the meantime, they would make sure to enjoy being together.

Few days later, Akemi Miyano would die.


End file.
